


Two Plus Two Equals…

by Salmon_I



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_I/pseuds/Salmon_I
Summary: Over the next few weeks, Alex detected a pattern of things moving and falling. At first he thought they were simply misplacing things as they adjusted to the new house, but soon he was certain something more was going on.Mysteriously moving belongings and telekinetic alien boyfriend. 2+2 = 4.He thought it would be a simple conversation."I'm not moving things.""Ever since we moved in here things have been moving." Alex pointed out."Or maybe we've been misplacing them because we aren't used to the house yet." Michael contradicted.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 44
Kudos: 53





	1. Two Plus Two Equals…

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: This was supposed to be a new start. Malex
> 
> This fic started because of a pair of spooky prompts that morphed into a whole story.

"There's this old house for sale."

Alex wasn't sure which one of them looked more confused, Michael or him, as they stared at each other over cups of cooling coffee at Bean Me Up. He'd accuse his boyfriend of reading his mind if he wasn't blinking his eyes in such astonishment at him.

"The old one by the dry creek?" He finally asked.

Michael nodded. "It needs a lot of work, and it's more room than we need."

"It's a great price, though. And there's a lot of land included."

"It's a pretty old house, can it really handle all your computer jumbo?"

Alex rolled his eyes at the taunt. "My computer jumbo? Like you aren't going to turn the tool shed into a science lab?"

"I mean, I'd probably have to lay down some wire to do that."

"Apparently a previous owner paid to modernize the electricity. Including the tool shed."

Michael glanced at him over the rim of his coffee cup. "So you already talked to the owner?"

"I may have called the real estate office and asked the agent a few questions."

"Nobody's currently living there. The previous owner moved out, probably months ago."

Alex shot him an unimpressed look. "Did you break and enter?"

"Of course not. I just took a brief look at the place. Newspaper ads don't tell the whole story."

"You read it in the newspaper? That's so cute." Alex teased him, and Michael balled up his napkin to throw at him.

"Yeah, and what were you doing looking at real estate online?"

"I wasn't. It was one of those ads that pop up because I had my location settings turned on."

"Mm-hmm. You do know the algorithm for those things aren't actually random, right? They look at recent sites visited, recent purchases made-"

Alex threw the napkin back at him.

* * *

"I'm so proud of you two. Settling down in a place with modern plumbing and more than two rooms." Isobel teased them the day they moved in.

"My house had more than two rooms." Alex protested.

"And terrible water pressure." Isobel was perched on the kitchen counter, using her now developed telekinesis to unwrap dishes and put them away in the cabinets. He'd call it cheating, but he'd honestly just asked Michael to move the couch into the living room with his mind so he'd be a hypocrite. Of course asking Michael to use his powers had the added bonus of that look of concentration on his face and the beads of sweat sliding down his neck when the item was heavy.

Isobel shot him a look that said she knew what he was thinking about, and glanced at the counter she was sitting on suspiciously. "Make sure to utilize the cleaning supplies I brought. They sanitize." She sniffed.

"You do know this was the house everyone used to say was haunted when we were kids." Kyle decided to offer as he brought in another box. "We used to dare each other to come here."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Haunted, right."

"I'd make a joke about crossing the streams, but that would sound vaguely sexual."

"Valenti, I brought bleach for the house, not for my brain." Isobel scowled at him.

"The fact that you've both made more dirty jokes during this whole thing than Michael makes me seriously question my friendships." Alex pointed out.

"That actually suggests you're the bad influence in your relationships if you think about it." Isobel countered with a smug grin.

Alex opened his mouth to deny it, but then grinned, and studied the counter again. "I mean, when it comes to being a bad influence on your brother…"

"Ew! Ew! Stop it right now, Manes!" Isobel jumped off the counter. "Liz! You need to invent brain bleach!"

"Being a mind reader must suck." Kyle tormented.

"Oh, I can share these images with you if you like, Valenti." Isobel took a threatening step toward him, but Kyle was quicker - dodging out of the room.

"I think there's one more kitchen box!"

"Someone needs bleach? What are you spilling?" Liz entered the room.

"Brain Bleach, Ortecho. I demand you invent a way for me to unsee the filth that is in your best friend's mind." Isobel pointed at him.

Alex shrugged at Liz as if he had no clue what she meant, and escaped back to the living room.

"Don't play innocent, Manes!" The angry shout followed him.

"Geez, what did you do to upset the Princess?" Rosa asked him.

"I'm being falsely accused." He told her.

"Uh-huh."

"Coming through." Michael was using his powers to float pieces of the bed frame through the room and up the stairs.

"Wipe up the drool, and maybe I'll believe you." Rosa patted his shoulder and moved away - ignoring his spluttered protest. She headed back outside, but paused when she spotted Maria staring at the house. She had a box in her hands, but she wasn't moving. Her head was tilted to one side and her eyes distant - almost vacant. "Maria?" She approached her.

"Someone is here."

"Yeah, there's a lot of us here."

"Something happened - someone is missing?"

"I'm pretty sure we're all here." When she didn't respond right away, she reached out a hand to touch her arm. "Maria?"

Maria gasped, nearly dropping the box. She shook her head and stared at her blankly for a moment before she seemed to realize where she was. "I'm sorry, I just felt…" She glanced back at the house, and trailed off.

"Felt what?"

"I don't know. It's gone now."

Rosa frowned, but grabbed another box. "Well, come on. I'm gonna con Michael into buying us all pizza."

Maria laughed, and followed her inside.

* * *

Leftover pizza from lunch was dinner. Michael couldn't seem to keep a smile off his face as Alex and he curled up in front of the fire. He was exhausted, both physically and power-wise. Maybe not the wisest choice, but right now things were quiet so it wasn't that concerning.

"Want anything?" He asked, despite the fact he didn't want to move.

"You." Alex replied, pulling him closer for a kiss. Michael went eagerly, letting their lips glide invitingly against each other's. Alex's hands were just beginning to tangle in his curls when a deafening crash echoed through the house.

"What the hell?" Michael was on his feet, and moving toward the sound.

"Michael, wait a moment." Alex hissed, struggling slightly to rise to his feet.

He cursed when Michael didn't listen, but caught up with him just as he was surveying the dining room. Nothing seemed out of place, and they moved into the kitchen next. They both relaxed when they saw things from the counter had fallen to the floor.

"The pizza boxes must have slid and knocked stuff." Alex picked up their paper towel holder.

"I'll grab the broom." Michael volunteered, and Alex only nodded in response.

It seemed like things had fallen pretty far. He frowned as he picked up the spaceship sponge holder Rosa had given them. It shouldn't have been anywhere it could be knocked. The air in the room felt chilly - he could feel goosebumps prickle up his arms. Placing the sponge holder back by the sink, he waited for Michael to return. He was ready to get back to the warmth of the fire.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Alex detected a pattern of things moving and falling. At first he thought they were simply misplacing things as they adjusted to the new house, but soon he was certain something more was going on.

Mysteriously moving belongings and telekinetic alien boyfriend. 2+2 = 4.

He thought it would be a simple conversation.

"I'm not moving things."

"Ever since we moved in here things have been moving." Alex pointed out.

"Or maybe we've been misplacing them because we aren't used to the house yet." Michael contradicted.

"Michael, my crutch was against the far wall this morning. So unless you did it on purpose--"

"I didn't touch--"

"You must be doing it subconsciously."

"I have not moved things while sleeping since I was thirteen, Alex."

"Well, I'm not saying that moving in together is like puberty, but since your powers do react to your emotions--"

"My emotions?" Michael crossed his arms. "Just what emotions do you think I'm having?"

"It's a big step, maybe you're nervous."

"I haven't been nervous, I've been happy. I thought you were too."

"I am happy, Michael. But something is clearly happening with your powers, and maybe making this big of a commitment has something to do with it."

"You're the one who's scared of commitment, Alex. Not me."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe this new level of commitment has you questioning us like you always do. And blaming me, which you always do, too, so you don't have to question your own motives."

"Or maybe your fear of being abandoned is clouding your judgment and you refuse to see what's happening."

When Michael slammed out the door a moment later, Alex sunk down onto the kitchen stool with a groan. This was supposed to be a new start, how had things gone bad so quickly?

* * *

Michael hadn't returned by nightfall and Alex stayed up late, hoping he'd finally cool off and come home. It wasn't really like him to stay out late drinking anymore, not unless they were together. He finally fell into a restless sleep filled with hazy dreams where he searched endlessly for Michael but couldn't find him.

He awoke briefly when a cool hand touched his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Michael." He murmured back, glad the other had finally returned home. Something nagged at his mind, something about the hand that had brushed against his skin, but he was already drifting toward sleep again.

Cold. Cold hands. Michael's were always warm. Hot even, due to his alien biology. He shot up in bed, eyes scanning the darkness around him. "Lights." He ordered, and was glad he'd thought to install the program when the lamp turned on at the command.

Nobody was in the bedroom, it was empty.

Alex shivered, and grabbed his crutch - foregoing the prosthetic for speed. He went room by room but it soon became clear that nobody was there. He returned to bed, but sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

He didn't feel very rested when the ding of his phone awakened him the next morning. He heard footsteps from the sitting room at the top of the stairs and was glad Michael had finally made it home. The screen showed the message was from Michael starting with "I'm sorry."

The idea of Michael pacing restlessly while sending a text message a room away made him smile fondly, and he sat up slowly. Both his crutch and prosthetic were across the room and he frowned at that - he was hoping the incidents with Michael's powers could be resolved by talking things out.

He clicked open the message to read the rest, and his blood ran cold.

"I'm sorry.  
I spent the night at Liz and Max's. She and Kyle are going to run some tests to see what's going on with me. I'll be here all morning, but I'll bring lunch home."

The footsteps started down the hallway towards him…


	2. Four Minus One...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt: It’s cold. Is it supposed to be this cold? Malex spooky prompt

Michael hadn't thought anything was odd at first. He kept misplacing things, but he put it down to not being used to having so much room. Certain rooms in the house always felt cold to him, but the house was old. It was possible certain walls weren't properly insulated. He made a mental note to check into it, but it seemed like a minor concern.

Then Alex started accusing him of moving his things, and he knew he hadn't touched them. Not physically. The suggestion he was doing it subconsciously didn't sit well with him. His powers were only hard to control in moments of anger, that had been true even in childhood, and he wasn't angry. If anything, he was the happiest he'd ever been. He didn’t want to believe he could suddenly develop some sort of issue with his abilities. But the fact was, Alex's crutch hadn't moved across the room on its own. He moped on Max's couch for hours, stubbornly refusing to talk about the fight between Alex and him.

Liz was not as indulging, and after she arrived at their home started pestering him with questions. He eventually secured the promise he could stay for the night before he caved in and told her what was going on.

“How large were the items that you noticed being misplaced?” Liz was in full science mode even as she forced him to make supper with her and Max. Apparently, if he planned to eat supper with them, he had to help make it. A part of him would have protested that Isobel never made him do that, and had in fact barred him from her kitchen. But he wanted to have Liz’s opinion on what was happening at the house, so he chopped the vegetables she put in front of him without complaint.

“Small items. Keys. My hat. My notebook once.”

“What about Alex’s items?”

“I’m not sure what items he lost. He said his crutch was against the far wall.”

“Anything else odd happening?” Liz grabbed one of the sliced pieces of green pepper of his chopping board to munch on.

“Things are falling. Pictures off the walls. Things fall off the kitchen counter.”

“Huh.”

“Maybe you have a ghost.” Max suggested from where he was setting the table.

“Right, Max.” Liz rolled her eyes.

“In horror novels, poltergeist activity often are early clues of a haunting.”

“Well, there have been no random stacks of objects.” Michael informed him.

“I said horror novels, not B rated paranormal movies.” Max responded.

“Hey, they’re based on true stories.”

“Can we go back to the scientific side of things?” Liz broke in.

“Please, do.” Michael told her.

“You only lose control of your powers when you’re angry.”

“Yeah, exactly, but I’m not angry.”

“But things are moving, and you do have telekinetic abilities. Logically, it would make you the culprit.”

“That’s what Alex said!” Michael slammed down the knife, glowering at the cutting board as if it were to blame for the problem. “But I don’t lose control of my powers unless I'm angry, and I’m not angry!”

Liz shot him a pointed look.

“I haven’t been angry.” Michael corrected, though his shoulders relaxed again, and his look became more petulant than anything.

“Look, you’ve had to keep a tight rein on your powers for your own safety for a long time.” Liz reminded him. “But now you have your own house, and you're with someone you trust. Someone who knows your secret. Maybe this issue isn’t because you’re angry. It’s because you feel safe, and your powers are leaking out when you are at your most open. During sleep.”

“...That makes more sense than I like.” Michael sighed, dropping his chin down onto his chest. “Okay, how do I stop it?”

“We can run some tests. Maybe some baselines while you’re awake. And then again while you’re in an REM sleep.”

“Great. Back to being a lab rat.”

“If something is going on with your powers, we need to know about it.” Max pointed out.

“Why aren’t you randomly blowing up stuff in your sleep? You and Liz have been doing the living together thing longer.”

“We have blown things up before.” Liz’s grin was wicked. Max burst out laughing.

“Gross.” Michael complained. “I could have done without those details.”

“That wasn’t detailed, I can give you detailed." Liz offered.

“No.”

“It was really hot.”

“Stop.”

“Do you want to guess which room we were in?”

Michael threw a handful of vegetables at her.

  
  


* * *

  
"I'm sorry.  
I spent the night at Liz and Max's. She and Kyle are going to run some tests to see what's going on with me. I'll be here all morning, but I'll bring lunch home."

Michael sent the text off as Liz wired him up. Kyle was there already, having brought what equipment Liz didn’t have. The two of them had slowly stocked up on equipment over time, seeing as they were pretty much the only alien qualified doctors around. They’d already drawn blood, and Kyle was glancing at the result in the microscope.

“What’s the verdict, Doc? Will I live?” Michael joked.

“You’re still an alien.” Kyle rejoined.

“Too bad, I was hoping I’d mutated.”

“Nothing seems unusual about your bloodwork. You’re a healthy alien.”

“Okay, first we’ll get a baseline on your readings, and then you’re going to try to fall asleep.” Liz told him, moving to sit down and record whatever the monitors on the table were showing in her notebook.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep with this stuff on.” Michael admitted.

“Just try. If we can’t get it today, we can plan a different day. Use a type of sedative that works on your biology. But, I’d honestly feel better if Isobel was here for that.”

Michael glanced at his phone, but so far Alex hadn’t texted back. He had the day off, so maybe he was sleeping in late?

When he attempted to fall asleep per Liz’s instructions, he expected it to be difficult. Instead, he slipped into unconsciousness almost instantly.

* * *

The house looked different in his sleep. Newer. He couldn’t remember what color they painted it, and a thick mist obscured the landscape. It made no sense, but then he knew he was dreaming. He entered through the front door, only to find the mist filled the inside rooms as well.

“Alex?” He called out, but didn’t receive a reply. He searched the rooms - the kitchen, the den, the downstairs bedroom they used most often. Alex wasn’t anywhere to be found.

It’s just a dream, he told himself. It didn’t mean anything that he couldn’t find Alex, but he could feel his heart begin to pound heavier in his chest. “Alex!”

He hurried up the stairs. The mist swirled about his feet as he began to go room by room, searching - feeling more and more desperate. “Alex!”

The whispers had started out small, but they began to get louder the farther he went. He couldn’t make out words, and yet he felt as if they were so loud he should. When he got to the last room, a familiar figure stood at the window overlooking the land below, and he sighed in relief. “Alex.”

Alex didn’t turn, didn’t look at him - he continued to gaze out the window.

“Alex?” He tried to step into the room, but suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere right in front of him - his face unfamiliar.

“He’s mine!”

The door slammed shut.

* * *

  
“Alex!” His eyes shot open, and he sat up. He was on the couch at Max’s, and Liz was by his side a moment later.

“Michael, are you okay?”

“I just…” He looked around the living room, sunlight pouring in through the windows - so different from the misty horror of the nightmare it was disorienting. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” Liz reassured him.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Not long. Maybe half an hour.” Kyle had risen from the table, but had hung back to allow him space.

“I’ve never had a dream like that before.” He admitted.

“With everything we’ve all been through, there’s nothing unusual about nightmares.” Liz pointed out.

“Yeah, but this was…” He glanced at his phone, and felt a chill when he didn’t see any notification light. “Alex didn’t text me back?”

“I didn’t hear it if he did.” Kyle told him.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best day to run the test.” Liz started to peel the sensors off of him. “Why don’t you go see Alex? We can try again later.”

“Were there any unusual spikes?” He asked her.

“There were some spikes, but you were having a nightmare. We would need a normal REM reading to compare because of your biology.”

“Right, of course.” Michael continued to stare at the phone - willing it to show a message notification that never came.

* * *

Despite the promise in his text, Michael didn’t stop for lunch. The dream plagued him, and when he parked in front of the house a part of him was irrationally grateful to see no mist or fog around it. He entered the front door, glancing around - there was no immediate sign of Alex in the living room, but that wasn’t unusual. They’d converted one of the downstairs rooms into a study for him, and he spent more time there than the other rooms.

The house felt chilled, and Michael noted that no fire was burning in the fireplace. That seemed strange, as Alex often lit one when he was home. His SUV was outside, though, so he was almost certain he was still home.

He glanced into the fridge, confirming that - yes - they did need to go shopping or eat lunch out. Maybe Alex would go to the Crashdown Cafe with him. He just didn’t want to stay in the house today, even though he knew it wasn’t logical. Liz was right, nightmares weren’t unexpected given everything that had gone on in their lives - his and Alex especially. Illogical or not, though, he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He heard the creak of the floorboards from the hallway, and turned - expecting Alex - but no one was there.

“Alex?” He called out, but no response came. He stepped out into the hall, but didn’t see anyone, but the creak came again from the living room. He followed the sound, but the room was also empty. The front door was open, and he glanced around suspiciously, moving forward slowly to get a look out the front window. No cars were outside, and he didn’t see anyone on the porch.

Closing the door, he locked it, feeling chilled again. When he turned, Alex was directly behind him. “Shit!” He placed his hand over his loudly beating heart, taking in a steady breath. “You scared the crap out of me, Alex.”

“Who was outside?” Alex asked him, his eyes on the front windows. There was something odd about his tone. It seemed flat. Maybe he was still angry with him?

“Nobody, I must not have shut it properly.” Michael assured him. Alex didn’t say anything in reply, just moved away toward the kitchen, Michael followed him. “You didn’t reply to my text.”

“No.” Alex was studying the room slowly, as if looking for something.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t stop for lunch. I was worried. I had this strange nightmare and…” The temperature in the room dipped, and he rubbed at his arms. “It’s cold. Is it supposed to be this cold?”

“Tell me about the nightmare.” Alex’s voice still sounded odd, and he still wasn’t looking at him. Something about the whole situation was starting to feel wrong.

“Alex, are you still mad at me?” He reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, and the next moment he was flying through the air and slamming against the wall. Instead of falling, he stuck fast - as if an invisible force was holding him there.

Alex turned to face him, and Michael felt a chill run down his spine. On the worst night of his life, a stranger had looked out at him from his sister’s face. It had haunted his nightmares for years. Now a stranger was looking at him out of Alex’s eyes, and he was certain it was a sight that would never leave him.

“Alex doesn’t need you anymore.” It didn’t sound like Alex at all. He didn’t recognize the voice coming out of his mouth any more than the look in his eyes. “Alex is mine.”


	3. Three Divided by One Equals…

Alex remembered hearing footsteps coming down the hall. He remembered getting up and using the furniture and walls to balance so he could reach his crutch. Instead of placing it under his arm, he balanced himself against the wall and held it up - ready to strike. Then he waited for the intruder to come to him. The door had creaked slowly open - but no one was there. Then he’d felt it - an energy, some sort of force or entity - rush around him and then…

Nothing. He recalled nothing else. Until now.

Now was his mindscape. He’d grown accustomed to what a mindscape looked like - the hazy edges of the room they actually stood in - the slight glow around the other person present. However, he had no explanation for why they were in the kitchen when he last remembered being in the bedroom. He was also not used to their being more than one person present. He recognized Michael, glowing slightly as he was accustomed to seeing. There was another man, though - one he didn’t recognize the face of - and who wasn’t glowing like he should. Instead he was misty - his edges blurred.

The mist was all around him as well, and at first he couldn’t hear what was being said. Forcing his way forward, to where the mindscape was clearer, he began to be able to make out their words.

“I don’t know what you are - and I don’t care. I’m kicking you out.” Michael was saying, shoulders bunched up - clearly ready for a fight.

“I’ve watched you, you know.” The man replied. “I’ve seen what you can do. I don’t think you’re strong enough.”

“Try me.” Michael held out his hand, and Alex could feel his power. The man was pushed back, and the mist began to fade as well. He almost felt like his own mind was clearer for it. Then, suddenly, the man’s form disappeared from sight. He could feel him, though all around him, and the mist seemed to slink forward again. He opened his mouth to shout for Michael - a moment too late. The man appeared right behind him, slamming his hands into the back of his neck - and Michael toppled forward with a cry.

“I’m not scared of you.” The man taunted, and the misty edges of his form seemed to expand, and begin to close around Michael. “I can kill you anytime.”

Alex tackled him to the ground as Michael began to choke. The man stared up at him, startled. “Get out.” He snarled at him.

The man opened his mouth, and screamed.

  
  


* * *

Alex gasped, feeling like he’d awoken from some sort of dream. His mind still felt hazy. In front of him, Michael was leaning against the kitchen wall - still coughing and choking, and the scream that had been in the mindscape filled the air around them. He was also dressed, and had his prosthetic on - none of which he recalled having done. Where those actions should be was only a blank. The house itself seemed to shake with the force of the scream - the air around them almost frigid.

He reached MIchael’s side to take his arm, and was surprised when he pulled away, backing up until he could see his face and meet his eyes. Then he seemed to slump in relief, even as he continued to cough. This time he reached for him, and Alex grabbed onto his hand as they bolted to the front of the house. The door wouldn’t budge under his hand, and Michael blew it outward in a show of power he usually wouldn’t have done. Then they were outside, and the scream faded into silence.

“What was that?” Alex finally managed to ask.

Michael only shook his head, giving one last cough. “I don’t know.”

* * *

“Ghosts don’t exist.” Michael said firmly, from where they sat in his truck parked on a street in town. Neither had dared to reenter the house, and since Alex’s keys were inside, they’d taken Michael’s truck. Alex only raised his eyebrows at him and took a sip from the paper coffee cup in his hands. They hadn’t been ready to face anyone who knew them well. Not until they understood what was happening. “There is no current data that proves beyond reasonable doubt that-”

“We just faced off with a misty figure in a shared mindscape and heard a disembodied scream when we came out of it.” Alex cut him off. “I’d say that’s beyond a reasonable doubt. Unless you think it’s some sort of alien.”

“It didn’t feel… alien.” Michael replied.

“So, how did it feel?”

“I don’t know. Weird.”

“I don’t remember anything past our bedroom door opening by itself. And then being in the kitchen with you.” Alex told him. He probably sounded far calmer than he felt. “That’s some sort of possession, right?”

“I mean, basing it on horror movies, yeah.” Michael admitted. “But movies also have aliens being green bulb heads and black slimy tentacle monsters.”

“Point. So we research it.”

“We research ghosts?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not like we can go back there, though.”

Alex stared at him. “Of course we can go back there. It’s our house.”

“It’s haunted by a ghost that’s obsessed with you.” Michael reminded him.

“I’m not letting some ghost kick me out of our house.”

“I’m pretty sure that line was said in every paranormal movie that ended badly.”

“Aw, is my macho cowboy scared?” Alex teased him, but was surprised when Michael turned a torn gaze on him.

“A stranger looked at me from your eyes, Alex, and spoke to me with your mouth. When that happened with Isobel it took over ten years to…” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Alex set his coffee down, and slid closer to him on the seat. “This won’t be the same. We can beat this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“What I know is that together, we’re unstoppable.”

Michael opened his eyes to look at him, whatever he saw seemed to be what he needed. He reached out to take his hand, and nodded.

* * *

  
“The house was built by the Rhodes family that settled here in 1897.” The woman at the Roswell Historical Society had pulled out several documents and books for them. “There were three brothers, the wives of the eldest two, and their children.”

“Did they die there?” Alex asked her.

“All three of the brothers died in the house, as did their wives, and several of their children later in life. The house actually stayed in the family for almost a hundred years. The last one to own it was a descendant of the middle son. She was a bit of an eccentric. Never married herself. Used to tell all sorts of stories about the place.”

“What sort of stories?” Michael asked her.

“That it was haunted by the ghost of Michael Rhodes.” She started to leaf through a book. “There should be a picture in here.”

“Why would she say he haunted the place?” Alex started flipping through a different book.

“He committed suicide on the property. That’s fact - it’s recorded in his death record. Old Miss Rhodes, though, she used to say family legend said he died of heartbreak. Had some lover his brothers didn’t approve of. And, one night, the brothers killed the lover. Michael Rhodes never got over the betrayal and finally shot himself in his upstairs bedroom. The one at the end of the hall.”

Michael felt a shiver run through him, as he recalled the dream he’d had that morning. “Is that where he shot himself?”

“Who knows? They didn’t really write which room at the house down on the record. Just that he shot himself on the property. Really, I think she made the whole thing up to entertain herself. Ah, there is the picture.” She set the book down. It showed eight people in all. Three men, two women, and three children. “Those are the eldest brother, Joshua and Marcus, their wives Ethel and Martha, their children - Thomas, Cordelia, and John, and that is Michael Rhodes.”

Alex felt his blood run cold and glanced over at Michael, to see him equally as shaken. The misty figure they’d faced off with in mindscape was the man in the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Randomly assigned names. No historical research done (except a quick look at what year Roswell was settled)


End file.
